


Not So Secret

by rabid_plotbunny



Series: Secrets [2]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M, Toys, crack!fic, mentioned solo Asami
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 10:32:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17826965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabid_plotbunny/pseuds/rabid_plotbunny
Summary: Takaba never did learn to run first, look later. [Sequel toOne More Secret]





	Not So Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to IJ/LJ 11-01-2007

Takaba Akihito teased the lock open with practiced skill and let himself cautiously into Asami's penthouse suite. A quick look around, ears straining to hear any noise, assured him that, for the moment at least, he was alone. He let out a small, relieved breath, then closed the door behind him.

His shoes standing guard in the _genkan_ , he made his way further into the older man's home. The very air smelled of the man; a mix of expensive smoke, a faint whiff of cologne, something else more sensed than breathed that was pure Asami; danger and sex incarnate.

He shook his head to clear it, moved through the sitting room toward his target. 

Even though he knew the apartment was empty, a shiver of apprehension still crawled along his spine as he moved into the curtain-darkened bedroom. His socked feet made no sound as he crossed the floor to the massive bookshelf that stood against the wall across the room from the bed. 

A grin spread across his face as he moved aside the leaves of a few ferny houseplants sitting on a shelf and found the object of his search just where he had left them.

He loved his film cameras and had no intention of switching entirely to digital any time in the near future, but a recent trip to his favorite camera shop had convinced him to at least give it a try. The price was right, and so was that of the accessory that had caught his interest. He just couldn't resist, and so ended up leaving the shop several thousand yen lighter and with mischief in a bag.

He reached to the shelf and took down his new digital camera and the small device he had spent almost as much time aiming as the camera itself. It wasn't much to look at; not much more than a box about the size of his thumb with a small hole in the front, attached to the camera with a black wire that hung out the back.

He unplugged the device from the camera, stuffed it in a pouch at his waist, then took up the camera itself. A few quick pushes of a button and he was staring at the first of the photos that had been taken. A grin crossed his face. It had worked!

The little device, his great impulse buy, was a sensor. Aimed at an object, its purpose was to send a message to the camera when something passed in front of it; sort of like a laser alarm system, only without the noise. In this case it had been aimed at the bed, and started the pre-programmed camera on a round of picture-taking. In this case, one photo every fifteen seconds.

Camera in hand, still flipping through the photos (the display said there were 240 pictures waiting on its card), he walked out of the bedroom and headed towards the door. Inside, he was elated. His experiment had been a success! The sensor had worked like his friend at the camera shop had claimed, and Asami hadn't noticed it. Now he could set it up for real and perhaps even get some good shots of the darker side of Asami's work, the shots he had always been denied before. He could hardly be caught if he wasn't there! Then again, if he _was_ there, and got caught as usual, Asami wouldn't exactly be looking for anything else as he might if he noticed Akihito's suspicious absence. Right! He had a plan, then!

He was just passing Asami's leather armchair when he flipped another picture and stumbled a bit in embarrassment before freezing in place. On the camera's small display was Asami, lying on his bed, one hand between his legs, the other on his chest, fingers playing with a peaked nipple. Couldn't the man go without for one single night? Sheesh! He'd expected to get shots of the man sleeping, not jerking off! Then again, this _was_ Asami. Should he really be surprised?

He started walking again, once again flipping through the pictures, trying to ignore the heat that was flooding his face at the sight. Much as he would like to, there was no denying that Asami was a very well-built man and that the sight did things to him that he was in no way ready to admit, not even to himself.

Then he frowned, staring down at the empty bed on the screen. He flipped back a single picture and there was Asami lying on the bed with his legs drawn up, one hand on his hugely aroused cock, the other hidden beneath it – cradling his balls, perhaps? Move ahead one picture, and he was gone. With the intimate knowledge he had of the man, he knew that Asami did not get up to clean himself off immediately after orgasm, but let the feelings fade a bit before moving. So where had he gone?

He flipped ahead one more picture.

This time, his knees folded entirely and he barely managed to keep hold of the camera in his shock.

What was Asami doing with _that?_ He remembered that particular object with mixed pleasure and pain, as most of his memories with Asami seemed to be. But what could Asami, alone, possibly want with the _vibrator?_

Eyes wide, staring, he was unable to keep from hitting the 'next' button, watching in fifteen-second time-lapsed photos as Asami took the vibrator and-

There was an irritating tickling on his upper lip.

He was so focused on the sight on the camera's display that his surroundings seemed to fade away, leaving him alone in the universe with the camera. Oh, god. He had captured the look on Asami's face as the vibrator disappeared from view. Oh, _god_ , he had captured the look on Asami's face when he _turned it on!_

“See something you like?”

The familiar deep voice in his ear, accompanied by big hands on his shoulders and a licking nip at his earlobe, startled a shriek out of him and he jumped involuntarily, planting himself against the broad chest, the strong arms wrapping firmly around him, trapping him. “A-Asami!” he screeched in surprise. He started to struggle against the bigger man's hold, only managing to squirm in place.

Asami reached forward with one hand, plucking the camera from Akihito's hand and using one thumb to hit the 'next' button, watching himself pleasuring himself with the vibe, finding the photos both embarrassing and impossibly arousing. Who would have thought his seemingly impossibly-shy Akihito was really a voyeur? The thought was electrifying, doing amazing things for even _his_ typically overactive libido. “Well?” he purred, his breath on the younger man's ear making the slim body shiver in his arms. “Do you like this? Seeing me like this? Seeing the photos as I push it in and out? You want to be there yourself, don't you? Watching me.”

“Wha... no! No! Asami, I-”

“You do, don't you? My little Akihito. You want to be there. You want to watch. Perhaps more? You want to do it, don't you? Feel the silicone vibrating in your hand as you push it in and out, see my face as you hit the-”

“No! P-pervert! L-let me go!” The squirming was worse now, but no more effective.

Asami let him go, trademark smirk firmly in place. He pulled a handkerchief from his suit pocket, offered it. “Your nose is bleeding,” he said, voice husky with the same arousal that darkened his eyes.

“Shit!” Akihito cursed. He grabbed the handkerchief and wiped at his upper lip, then pressed it to the under side of his nose. “Dis doesn' hab anyfig do do wif doze picdures!” he managed to get out.

“Of course not,” Asami agreed absently, still flipping through the pictures. He waited until Akihito was cautiously pulling the handkerchief away, then turned the camera's display to face the photographer. “And neither does this.”

Takaba's face went red and blood exploded from his nose in a rush. He clapped the handkerchief back in place and glared. “Nofig ad all.”

“Ah,” Asami agreed once more. His golden eyes turned particularly predatorial. “I can wait, you know.”

“Eh?”

“You told me you would support _me_ one day. I can wait. I _will_ wait. For you. However long it takes.”

“Eeh?!”

“And from that day forward, you can see pictures like _these_ any time you want, in person.”

“Eeeeh! Why would I wanna-”

“Until then, however,” the suited man continued, golden eyes gleaming, “you are still mine. And I do believe someone needs to be punished for taking these _lovely_ pictures...”

“Wha- Oh _shit_!”

Abandoning his new camera, Takaba turned and darted for the door. Ignoring his waiting shoes, he yanked open the door only to have a big hand slam it shut again before he could get through. He was grabbed around the waist, then his world spun as he was lifted over one broad shoulder and carried back across the room. He kicked, fists hitting the strong back. “Hey!”

“My lovely, naughty Akihito,” came the possessive growl, a firm hand settling almost instinctively on the perfectly-shaped rump, squeezing gently.

“Hey! Lemme down! Asami! Lemme down, you bast-!” Akihito cried as the bedroom door closed behind them with a small click.

END


End file.
